Second Chances – It Should Not Hurt To Be A Child
by deslyncullen
Summary: Isabella Swan's life was a series of ups and downs. After her father's death, her mother became an alcoholic, so she grew up in various foster homes. She ran away at 16, but a chance encounter and an offer of help may turn her life around. When life gives you a Second Chance, do you have any choice but to accept?
1. The Beginning

**_Second Chances – It Should Not Hurt To Be A Child_**

Deslyncullen

Rating: PG-13

Prereading & Beta: Ysar Sparkly Red Pen & Ange de l'aube PTB

Genre: AH

Content Descriptors: Angst, family

Major Pairings: Bella & Edward (eventually)

**Summary:** ** Disclaimer:** I do not own Twilight. All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. All scenarios are solely the product of my imagination or are used fictitiously, though reference to actual events or locations may be real.

A/N: Story submitted to Fandom4LLS - Fandom For Leukemia & Lymphoma Society 2013 fundraiser, but I'm making a few changes.

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><p>Chapter 1 – The Beginning<p>

My earliest memories were of being part of a happy family. My parents laughed all the time and called me their angel, my mother baked cookies and dressed me in pretty clothes, and my father read bedtime stories to me. All that changed after my father died. I think I was about five because I had started school that year. I didn't understand the concept of death until later. All I knew was that my daddy wasn't there, and my mommy was sad and cried a lot.

At first, my mother let me sleep in her bed because I started having nightmares about her leaving too. Every time I asked for my daddy, she told me that he had gone to heaven. I came to realize that when I asked about my father it would make my mother cry more. I didn't want her to be sad, so I stopped asking her. Instead, I'd pray that he would come visit, or that we would go to see him. As I got older, I understood that once someone went to heaven, they couldn't come back.

After my father had died, Billy, Harry, and Sue had spent a lot of time at our house. They brought their children, and those visits were the happiest days of my new life. Each night, I'd mark off the days as I waited in anticipation for Saturday. Saturdays meant Sue, Harry, Billy, and my friends Leah, Jacob, and Seth. Saturdays also meant playing dress up with Leah and running around the yard with Jacob and Seth. Most importantly, Saturdays were a reminder of what my life was before. For a while, I could pretend that nothing had changed.

Two birthdays went by like this. Sue brought food, or she would cook when she came. She helped my mother with the household chores while Billy and Harry took care of the yard. Before they left, we'd all sit down as a family and eat. Then, one day, my mother got into an argument with them. I had never seen her that angry before. It scared me, so I started to cry. Leah took me to my room and rocked me on her lap until Sue called her, Seth and Jacob downstairs. Next day, I heard my mother yelling on the phone.

"I don't need any help from you or anyone on the reservation, and I certainly don't want anybody telling me what to do. Don't come back to my house."

Things changed drastically after that. At the time, I didn't understand how crucial their visits had been to my survival until they stopped coming to our house. Without Sue's help, I became aware of how little my mother had done around the house. She didn't always remember to cook, so I had to learn to prepare my meals. On those days, I ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Eventually, I learned to cook in the microwave. First, I made macaroni and cheese and then franks with beans, but sometimes there was no food in the cupboards—at least, nothing that I knew how to make. I remembered eating stale bread with ketchup and pretending it was pizza.

Things got worst at home. Besides not always having food, everything made my mother angry. I learned to walk softly and stay out of her way if I didn't want her to hurt me. Every night, I curled into bed and cried myself to sleep, hoping she would get better.

The first time I tried doing laundry had been a disaster.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"I don't have any clean clothes for school, so I was washing some." Soap suds were everywhere, and more were coming out of the machine.

"Well, you didn't have to use the whole bottle of soap!" she yelled.

I hadn't put the whole bottle in the machine, but I wasn't about to tell her that.

"Get the mop and clean up this mess, NOW."

My eyes filled with tears, and I bit my lip, trying to keep from whimpering. I kept my head down so she wouldn't see the tears in my eyes and made my way to the broom closet. She stopped me, gripping my shoulder hard. "You want something to cry for?" she asked, shaking me and then she smacked me across the face. That was the first time she hit me. Sometimes, when she got angry, she would hold my arms tightly and shake me until I felt my head would fall off, but she had never hit me before.

Later that day, she apologized. "Bella, I'm sorry for hitting you and yelling at you. I'm sick. I'll try to be a good mother again."

"I love you mommy. I'll try not to make you angry. I'll be a good girl." She hugged me, and we both cried.

She did not live up to her promise. In fact, things deteriorated rapidly after that.

My mother was sick all the time, so not only did I have to fend for myself, I had to take care of her too. I ended up doing all the housework. I made excuses when she didn't show up for parent teachers' night. I lied to the neighbors when they asked for her. It had been hard not having my mother take care of me, but I didn't know what else to do. When she wasn't sleeping, she was angry most of the time. Sometimes, she would hit me just for looking at her. I learned to cover the bruises with long sleeved shirts or a sweater, but one night, she smacked me so hard, it left a bruise on my face. I thought that was the worst that could have happened to me, but I was wrong.

When I got to school, the teacher took me aside and asked what happened. I lied and told her that I hadn't been paying attention and had walked into the edge of the dining table. I thought I did a good job hiding the abuse, but my teacher knew something was up. She took me to the nurse. I heard whispering in the next room, and I became frightened, but I heard my mother's name, so I crept closer to the door and listened to every word. I learned that, after my father's death, my mother had started taking sleeping pills to get through the night. From the pills, she started drinking and eventually she had started mixing the two.

Then I heard my teacher say, "We have to do something. Renee's finally lost control."

"We're concerned about Isabella's living conditions, but the state was reluctant to step in. They think children belong with their biological parents unless it would be detrimental to the kids' health," the principal told her.

"Well, I think that time is now. If you don't, then I will call social services myself. It breaks my heart to see the look in that little girl's eyes. She tries hard to hide it, but she's too young to bear this burden alone."

I stopped listening after that. I went back to the cot and curled into a ball. If mommy thought I told her, she would become angrier. My teacher went back to the class. They had left for a while, and then a lady came to speak to me.

"Isabella, your mother is too sick to take care of you. You don't have any aunts or uncles for us to send you to so while your mother is getting the help she needs, we will place you with a foster family who has kids around your age. You'll stay with Mr. and Mrs. Volturi, who have agreed to take you in. You'll share Jane's room. I'm sure both Jane and Alec will be very welcoming."

That had been another lie. Just like my mom promising not to hit me again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Please take me home," I begged. Mommy would be so angry with me. I should have stayed home until the bruise was gone. How would mommy survive without me? I didn't feel relieved to be taken away from my home. Then I had an idea. "Can I go to the reservation until mommy is better?" I asked hopefully. The only friends daddy had were on the reservation and things had been different when they had visited. Maybe they could help mommy again and things will get netter.

"Bella, we cannot take you to the reservation. You have no family there. We can't find any family members anywhere, that's why we're at a foster home. Now dry your tears before we go inside."

"Mrs. Volturi this is Isabella. It's very kind of you to open your house to her."

"Mrs. Karp, it's the least we could do under such unfortunate circumstances. I'm sure she will get along nicely with Jane and Alec. It would be nice having another child around." Mrs. Aro said.

She stooped and brushed my hair off my face, which revealed the handprint that had led me here. It was my badge of shame.

"Oh dear. You poor little thing," she cooed. "Don't worry, we'll take care of you."

When Mrs. Karp finished speaking to Mr. and Mrs. Aro, she left, with promises to check on me and reassured me again, that staying with a foster family was better than being at my home. In the end, I was a kid, so I had to do as I was told.

When Jane came home from school, she refused to share her room, so I was given a little room that was no bigger than a closet. I was given clothes and shoes which Jane had outgrown. Most of them didn't fit right because as Mrs. Volturi said, I was "a scrawny little thing", but I didn't complain. I didn't want to cause any trouble.

During my mother's neglect and abuse, I had become a quiet, reserved child. The twins teased me. They called me a mouse, and they told me I was ugly; I believed them. Being in their house was a nightmare, even worse than what I had lived through in my own home. I became more withdrawn and clumsy, which led to me falling over my feet often. This provided the twins with more amusement and gave them more ammunition to use against me. Any time they got into trouble, they blamed me. I was beaten for any little infraction, whether real or something cooked up by the evil twins. Sometimes, Mr. or Mrs. Volturi would beat me and then send me to bed without any dinner. I was often rebuked for being mean and ungrateful. I only cried when I was in bed at night because I had learned that this amused Jane and Alec even more, provoking them to pinch me or pull my hair, to make me cry for their amusement. I learned to melt into the background as much as possible, but that didn't help. The twins were not happy unless I got into trouble at least once a day.

I kept silent through all the years of abuse because Aro, Mr. Volturi, had threatened that if I told anyone what went on in their home, the social worker would think I was just a troubled girl making up stories, and she would send me to a group home. He told me terrible things happened to girls in those homes. I was so scared that I would have endured anything, so I wouldn't have to go to one of those terrible places.

I had been relieved when I was told I would be going back home. After seeing doctors at a special place, my mother was deemed fit enough to take care of me again. When I got older, I realized my mother had gone to rehab to stop drinking and popping pills. In the beginning, she was the caring mother I had known before. Eventually, things went downhill again, and one night she was so angry that she beat me until I was black and blue all over. I couldn't go to school. Eventually, Mrs. Karp came to the house. She called the police came to the house and took me to the hospital. No major bones were broken, but I had a fractured leg. The pain was both physical and emotional. How could she do this again? I spent weeks in the hospital, and then I was taken to another foster home. Luckily I wasn't sent back to the same home. By that time, the Volturi had taken in another foster child. I felt sorry for this child, but I was afraid to speak up for fear of being sent to a group home as Mr. Volturi had threatened.

By freshman year in high school, I had been in three foster homes. It was difficult moving around so much because it meant getting used to a new family and a new school. I was a nervous wreck, wondering if I would get a decent family or not, but none of the other families had been as cruel as the Volturis.

I didn't have any friends because I never stayed in one place or attended the same school long enough. Each house was in a different town. The longest I stayed with anyone had been at my first foster home, and the burden of having to hide the physical and verbal abuse had made me shy, so even if someone decided to talk to me, I couldn't keep up my end of the conversation. Soon they would lose interest and leave me alone. A few asked why I didn't live with my parents. I started telling them my parents were dead.

I made up invisible friends, and a make believe family who loved me. What made me feel worse about my situation was the pity I saw in my teachers' eyes. I didn't want their pity, so I studied hard and excelled in all my classes. Getting out of the system and going to college became my new goal. Once I went away to school, I was never coming back to Washington State.

At fifteen, I was returned to my mother again, and I became determined not to go to another foster home. By that time, I learned to guard myself. I became a great liar. Any time someone asked how I was, I would look them in the eyes and tell them I was fine. When my mother started drinking again, I took care of the house and the garden, so if the social worker showed up, she would think my mother was still sober. I got a part-time job washing dishes at the diner, and I hid as much money as I was able to under a floorboard in my closet, saving for the day I graduated from high school and left this town behind. I never made it to graduation.

One day, my mother came home in a rage. It was something to do with money and the bank, and she took her rage out on me. She smacked me so hard that I banged into the wall and hit my head. I saw stars. I slumped to the floor and sat there until I felt strong enough to stand. Then I went to my room, packed as much as I could in my backpack, and took my money from its hiding place. After my mother had drunk herself into a stupor, I left the house. I got into my old truck; Mr. Black from the reservation had given it to me. It was a monstrous looking thing, but he had started teaching me to drive, so I drove to the Greyhound depot in Port Angeles. I had always intended to go to school in L.A. because it was warm and sunny and totally different from Washington State, so I decided it was the best place to start. I didn't want to use all my money for a ticket, and I wanted to make it hard for anyone to track me down – assuming my mother or the state decided to locate me. I was sixteen and homeless.


	3. second chances - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I bought a ticket on the next bus to Seattle. I went from Seattle to Portland. I was curious about Salem, so I stopped there for a day and boarded the bus that night. Traveling at night was also convenient because I had someplace to sleep. I looked for work where I could be in paid cash, and no questions were asked. This was easier in a city than in a small town with farms than in cities. When people started getting nosy, I bought a ticket to the next town on the route to LA and started over. I slept in parks or bus stations, and I used the restroom in the station to sponge off and brush my teeth. I even devised a way to shampoo my hair and have a halfway decent shower late at night when the station was quiet, and I could spend more than fifteen minutes in the bathroom without anyone knocking on the door.

I finally boarded the last bus to LA. I had done some research, and I had found a place where you could stay free for three weeks while you tried to find a permanent place to stay. I didn't stay there long. A week later, I found a girl rummaging through my things, and I didn't want any trouble with her, so I moved on. Luckily, the little money I had was in my toiletries bag, which I had taken into the shower with me. Not having an address made it difficult to get a job so I was saving up all my money for a room. In the meantime, I continued sleeping in bus terminals, on park benches, or in doorways of business that had been closed for the night. Once, I had found an abandoned building and sneaked in, but it had been spooky, so I hadn't gone back.

I begged for money and tried to spend as little as possible. I begged for food at the back doors of restaurants. Sometimes I was lucky; at other times, I was chased away like a criminal. Then I remembered a program I had seen on the Food Network about the food that was wasted each day. Grocery stores can't sell anything after the date printed on the package, even if food's still edible. Or if they have bruised fruit and vegetables that are a little wilted, or cans that are dented, all these things are thrown out. I went to one of those supermarkets, but I realized that although they were throwing out the food, the workers didn't want homeless people hanging around their stores. It made no sense to me, but I was desperate, so I'd wait until they had gone back inside, and then I'd dash over to the dumpster and pick out whatever looked appetizing. A few other people knew about this, but it seemed to be a closely guarded secret. I thought of all the hungry people I passed begging on street corners, and sometimes I shared my stash with a few older people, but I didn't tell anyone where I got the food. I bought a can opener and a few utensils and kept them with my few belongings in my bag. Others went to the soup kitchens or shelters, but even in shelters or in a hostel, you had to be careful, or people would attack you or steal your stuff. Occasionally, I went to one to shower; otherwise, I tried to stay away from crowds, so I stuck to myself. Regular showers and washing my clothes at the Laundromat, kept me from getting smelly but I was still unkempt. Anyone could tell I did not have a proper home or someone to take care of me. I was still determined to go back to school, but first I had to find a place to stay, and I didn't know what the rules for continuing my education would be since I was a runaway so during the day, I spent some time at the local library to keep up with my studies.

One night, as I was settling in in the place where I'd been sleeping for a few weeks – a spot in the doorway of a building. I had just pulled out my flashlight and some magazines when a van pulled up, and a couple came out. They walked up to me.

"Hi. I'm Esme, and this is my husband Carlisle. We run a program in the city to give kids a safe place to stay. We also provide hot meals, and clothes." She handed me a business card. It was about a program called Cullen House. I was distrustful of any organized homes after my experience with the place I had stayed in before and the horror stories you heard on the street.

"Sorry, I'm not interested in going to a home." I was reluctant to try another. What was the point of getting my hopes up, only to have them dashed again? This place sounded too good to be true. There had to be a catch.

Esme didn't try to sell me on the idea. "Alright. If you change your mind, you have our card. Before we leave, could we offer you something to eat?"

I never refused food, so I took the sandwich and the bottle of water they offered. She also left some pamphlets. "We drive around this area regularly, so maybe we'll see you around". After they had left, I read the pamphlets. The Cullen House had doctors, case workers, and programs to help runaways get their GED, or provided support for you to finish high school. They also had programs to get you started in a job, by providing clothes for interviews, and they worked with companies who offered internships to students while they were in school. They also had an assisted living program where they help pay your bills for living expenses while the kids save for a place of their own.

I was extremely mistrustful. The place sounded too good to be true, and I'd had enough of living in homes where you were treated like crap. I learned at an early age that some of the people who take you in don't care about your well-being, so besides clothes, food, and a roof over my head, there were few perks. I'd heard kids talking about loving their foster parents because they had someone who took care of them better than their real parents had, and it had made me glad to know that not everyone had it as hard as I did. Growing up without parents was hard enough. Knowing that the people you were living with considered you a burden, even though the state was paying them to take care of you, or the ones who took in as many children as they were allowed, and used them as live in maids, made for a sad childhood. This was not a foster home but more like a group home, and I remembered all the terrible things Aro used to say happened at places like that. It sounded good, much better than the home I had stayed in when I had first come to L.A., but I refused their offer of shelter.

After I had read the information Esme had left with me, it piqued my curiosity. I went to the location. I stood across the street and looked at the building for hours. It was a large building, and I saw lots of teenagers coming and going. They were all clean, and some of them were even kidding around as they walked the streets. Eventually, I got up the nerve to speak to a girl who had left the building on her own. She told me the same things that Esme and Carlisle had told me. I watched the building for a while longer, looking for anything suspicious. Eventually, I left and went about my daily routine.

At first I thought about finding another place to sleep, but I changed my mind. This was a good location, and no one had bothered me since I had started sleeping here. True to their word, they showed up the next night, and then the van showed up every night after that. You become isolated while living on the streets. It was also a lonely existence, so I began to look forward to their visits. Those visits offered me the human contact that had been missing in my life. I never said much, but having Esme enquire about my day, or talk about something she had seen on the news, started to give me a sense of connection. I was not just a runaway. I was a person. I began to feel as if I mattered.

Every day, I watched the building where the Cullen House was located, and although the thought of a room that I could lock myself into at night was extremely enticing, I couldn't build up my courage to enter. What if I got my hopes up once again, and things didn't work out? Then, as I was starting to believe that they were as good as they sounded and that they were truly one of the good guys, disaster struck once again.

]


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

One night, I was huddled into my doorway when a gang of boys walked by. I tried to shrink in on myself, but they noticed me anyway. They stopped, and one of them kicked me.

"What do we have here?"

One of them grabbed my bag. "Do you have money? Maybe if you pay us, we might leave without hurting you, too much."

I reached into my pocket and gave them the money I had. I wondered how much money it would take for them to leave me alone, but I knew that no matter how much I had, it still wouldn't be enough.

"That's it?"

Stuff was pulled out of my bag as they searched for money or other valuables.

"Look what we have here."

One of my bras was swung back and forth for all the other boys to see.

"A girl."

One of them pulled my cap off, and my hair spilled out.

"Well, well, well, this is our lucky night."

Five heads turned to me. I became scared. At least when they thought I was a boy, they might have beaten me up and moved on. Now I didn't like the gleam in their eyes. This was a new game. I was alone on the streets, and even if I screamed, no one would come to my rescue, and I couldn't fight off all of them. I'd dealt with my share of bullies before, but being bullied when someone thought I was an effeminate boy or a fag or any of the other degrading words used at me was one thing; being alone at night with a gang of boys out for some fun was a totally different matter. I knew this could end badly. My heart was pounding as I tried to look for an escape. I scrambled up, but hands grabbed me.

Hard hand held mine behind my back, pulling so hard that my shoulders ached. Although I knew it was useless, I started to scream. One of them took a rolled up sock from my bag and stuffed it into my mouth.

"Shut up, bitch," the one who I thought was the leader said.

I was pushed roughly against the building. I was so scared that my knees started to shake. This can't be happening. I started to pray. I had trouble breathing, so I tried to spit out the sock. The sock was pushed so far into my mouth that it was hard to get it out. My jaw hurt, and my mouth was dry, but I kept trying to move my tongue to push it out. After working at it, I was able to push the sock forward a little.

Two of the guys started arguing.

"I didn't sign on for this. Robbing someone or beating them up is one thing, but rape? Nah, I'm outta here."

"Then get you punk ass out of here, and if you mention this to anyone, it'll be the last thing you do. I'll come after you and everyone in your house."

The one holding me loosened his grip a little. Was he having doubts too? The word rape kept bouncing around in my head, and I used all my strength to pull away. I turned and kicked him between his legs and ran. My fight and flight reflex kicked in. I didn't know if I was faster than any of them, I just knew I had to escape. I just knew I had to get away.

Someone caught up to me. Hands landed on my shoulder and spun me around. My legs got tangled up, and I fell over, hitting my head hard. As my vision blurred, I thought I heard a vehicle. Was that a gunshot? I tried to keep my eyes open so I could look around. If I passed out with these thugs there, it might be my last night on earth. Please let this be over. I'll do anything. I'll go back home. I'll go to the Cullen program. Anything. Wracking sobs shook my body, but I was losing consciousness fast.

My head was aching. Each heartbeat felt as if it would split my head open. I welcomed the pain because it meant that I was alive. I tried to assess the rest of my body for injuries. Besides my head, my wrists and my shoulders everything else felt alright. I relaxed. I was lying on something soft. Where was I? The darkness came again.

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><p>The next time I surfaced, I had heard voices. Was that Carlisle and Esme? Could I be that lucky? Did they show up for their nightly visit and stop my attackers? I stayed still for a while. I blinked. Once, twice, three times. I looked in the direction the voices were coming from.<p>

"You're awake."

Even though she had spoken softly, I winced at the sound of Esme's voice.

"Sorry," she whispered. "How do you feel?"

I tried to talk, by my throat was too dry.

"Water."

Esme offered me a glass of water. I gulped a mouthful and almost choked, which made my head hurt even more.

"Take it easy, sweetie."

Sweetie? No one had called me sweetie since my mother after my father's death. That little kindness was my undoing. Despite the pain in my head, I rolled into a ball and started to cry. Why was she being so kind to me? She had done her good deed by telling me about the program, and she could have walked away after I refused to go to the home, but she hadn't. She and Carlisle had returned each night, and it was a good thing they had because God only knew what would have happened. Thinking about that made me cry harder.

"Shhh, Carlisle and I are here for you. We'll keep you safe. Sorry we weren't there sooner."

She shouldn't blame herself. No, no, I wanted to say. But I was crying so much that I couldn't form the words. She had to be an angel.

When I was little, I had believed in angels. If angels were real, then Esme had to be one. Maybe I was dead. Dead at seventeen – well almost seventeen. It would have been a travesty for me to die now before I could have taken Esme and Carlisle's offer of help, but a small part of me thought that I was better off dead. That made me cry harder. It was as if someone had turned on a tap, and there was no way to shut it off. All the tears that I had not shed in years came out.

Esme sat next to me and gently touched my hair. Light butterfly touches. I loved it because it reminded me that there were good people in this world, and I hated it because it made me think of all the years I had lived without this simple human kindness. But I couldn't pull out of her reach, so I let her try to comfort me.

"Where am I?" I asked when I woke up again. My eyes were sore, and my throat and head hurt. I looked around at the room I was in. It was a small room, but it was clean. A single bed was against one wall, a chest of drawers against another wall, and a small desk with a chair at the opposite wall. There was a window with white curtains over the desk, and on the wall opposite the bed was a beautiful picture of a beach. I sat up and leaned against the headboard.

"After you lost consciousness, we brought you to Cullen House, so Carlisle could take care of you."

"Is there anyone we can call for you?"

"No." I picked up the glass of water and took a few sips. "Thank you both for coming back. Even after I refused your offer of someplace to stay, you returned every night. If you hadn't..." I couldn't bring myself to think of what might have happened.

"Don't think about that now. It's not easy living on the street, and as much as we would have loved to take you with us that first night, we had to gain your trust first. From years of experience, we know that it takes time. Some kids never get off the streets, but this is what we do. We drive around looking for homeless kids, we offer assistance, and we give out food. We do this in the hope of gaining the trust of the kids we reach out to. We help in any way we can. Some go back to their homes and some come to our program, but even the ones who remain on the street, we never write them off. We visit with clothes and food and give them that connection to someone. Every kid is special, and if we could help them all, we would."

I was right; she was an angel. They were both angels.

"You may not be able to accept us yet, but at least stay here tonight. Here's the key. Carlisle and I will leave you to rest. Here's our private line. Ask someone at the front desk to call us if you need anything."

"I need a shower."

"There's one down the hall. You'll find a towel and toiletries in one of the drawers. In another drawer is a change of clothes. I didn't know your size, so I hope the clothes fit. Tomorrow, we'll get you anything else you need."

I felt myself tearing up again. Her kindness knew no bounds.

"Don't cry. Everything will work out. You'll see."

I was too choked up to answer, so I nodded.

"Remember to call if you need us for anything."

As soon as they left, I walked to the bathroom and had the longest shower of my life. I scrubbed myself until my skin started to tingle all over. I knew I was washing off a layer of skin, but I felt I had to wash off the icky feeling of what had almost happened to me. I had been lucky, but it still made my skin crawl thinking of what they had intended to do.

I stayed under the water for a long time, thinking about my life. One thing was for sure; I would never feel safe on the street again. I'd have to consider my options.

Do I take up Esme and Carlisle's offer and stay here until I get enough money to rent a room, or do I go through the program and finish my high school education? Do I go back home? My head was starting to hurt again, so I finally shut off the water, dressed, and went back to my room. I sat on the bed, but soon I was under the covers, snuggling with the pillow. I felt drained. I'd make my decision tomorrow or the next day.

"Okay, I'll give it a try."

I didn't have many options until I saved up some money, and I would have been a fool to give up a safe place to sleep and all the programs that were offered. I spent days walking around and listening to the other kids talk to each other. After a couple of days, I stopped being jumpy. I had been having nightmares since the incident, but I took comfort in the fact that my door was locked. All I needed was enough money to rent a room in a hostel, and then I could get a job.

"At any point, you can choose not to commit to any of the programs we offer, but if you do decide to stay, then you'll have to visit our in-house clinic for medical attention and evaluation, and our staff will develop an individual case plan tailored to your needs." Esme told me. It was good that I was not being pressured to do anything against my will, so after two days of observing the other kids, I stopped expecting something terrible to happen and allowed myself to believe that this was for real. I put my name on the list to see someone at the medical center.

I filled out the form while I waited for my appointment.

Name: Isabella Swan

Age: 16 - I'm lucky I was rescued, or I wouldn't have made it to seventeen next month.

Your last address: Do the streets of LA count? I left that blank.

Your home town: I left that blank also.

Emergency contact: Blank

The rest of the questions were about medical history and physical condition.

I was surprised when I walked into the office and found out that Carlisle was the doctor who would be screening me. He had already gained my trust, so I felt less anxious.

"Carlisle, you and Esme are my guardian angels. Thanks."

"Don't worry about it. Esme wouldn't have forgiven herself if anything had happened to you."

"Why?"

"From the time she met you that first night, she was determined to get you off the street. She said she had a feeling about you that called out to her."

"Does she get these feelings often?"

"No. We've rescued thousands of kids, but you are only the fifth she's ever felt that way about."

I chewed on my finger nail as I mulled this over. Why me? I asked myself again.

Carlisle looked over the form.

"I see we have a birthday coming up."

I shrugged. Birthdays were just another day to me. It only meant that I had survived another year.

"You've left out some information, but you can fill that in when you feel more comfortable here. We need this information to see if the state you're from is looking for you, or to inform relatives that you're safe."

We spoke for a while as he tried to make me feel comfortable. I felt myself opening up to him. I thought of all the places I had been in the past year, and then I thought of the days I had spent here. From the start, I had been treated with dignity, something I had not known for as long as I could remember. I decided to take a leap of faith.

"Is Esme in the building? I'd like to speak to both of you at once."

"Yes."

Esme came in, and she greeted me in her kind, gentle manner. I looked at her and thought, this is how mothers should be. She patted me on the shoulder and pulled a chair over to sit next to Carlisle. I took a deep breath and told them my story in its entirety. Once I started, the words kept coming. I had never opened up to anyone like this before. Rehashing my life was like peeling an onion; layer after layer was peeled off. The closer I got to the core, the more tears I shed. By the expressions flashing over their faces, I knew they were affected by what I was saying, but they remained silent through it all.

When I finished, Esme offered me a box of tissues and sat next to me. She opened her arms, and I took the invitation. She hugged me tightly to her chest, running her hands softly over my back and making shooing sounds. It had been years since I had that kind of human contact. My heart ached, knowing that I had missed out on having a mother as caring as Esme, or even decent foster parents. I thanked God that she and Carlisle had come into my life. I became extremely emotional, and the tears just wouldn't stop.

Carlisle left the two of us alone. It took me about half an hour to pull myself together. Through it all, Esme held me and comforted me. Esme called Carlisle, and we continued with my session.

"We have a lawyer who works with our teens. I can make inquiries and get you declared as an emancipated minor, so you can make all your own decisions. When you're ready, you can choose which programs interest you, and we'll help in any way we can. Remember that Esme and I are always there for you. We're usually in the building every day, but if we're not around, and you need us for anything, you have our private numbers. Don't be afraid to call."

I was assigned a case worker named Ms. Weber. I had no social skills, and my emotional scars made it hard for me to adjust, but my case manager and Esme helped me get through the first weeks. I started going to group counseling sessions and learned some of the stories of the other kids. I became comfortable there.

After Carlisle's lawyer made inquiries, he came back to me with the news that my mother had died. She had been driving while drunk, and she drove off the road on a rainy night. I had blamed myself for my father's death and for the way my mother acted afterwards. I thought that if I had been a better daughter, my mother would not have become an abusive alcoholic, and maybe the foster parents I lived with would have loved me and taken better care of me. After I heard my mother had died, though, I didn't feel sad. I was relieved that I wouldn't have to live with her ever again. I was now an orphan. Carlisle insisted that along with the group counselling, I should start private therapy; he had told me that the long-term effects from the abuse ranged from depression to anxiety to symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder and even suicidal tendencies.

After months in the Crisis Center, or the first phase on the road to recovery as I called it, my case worker Ms. Weber asked, "Bella, you have been here for four months. How do you feel about moving to the next step?" Ms. Angela was a kind, soft spoken woman, who had worked diligently to get me acclimated to the center, and had guided me through the different programs.

"The next step is the Rites of Passage program, where you're taught how to move on with your life and plan for the future. You would have to go back to high school or complete your GED. After you get your diploma or GED certificate, we'll help you get an internship, and we'll provide interview clothes and help you practice. The final step us our Supportive Apartments Program, which would be the last step, toward living independently. In that program, you would have to pay a portion of the rent and bills, but you'll still have the support of the staff to offer guidance."

"I don't know. What if I'm not ready?"

I spoke to Esme about my talk with Ms. Weber.

"Isabella, you're doing well. Don't sell yourself short. Carlisle and I are proud of your progress. You've survived years of adversity, and you never gave up."

I blushed. I wasn't used to getting compliments. Before the Cullens and their staff, only my teachers ever complimented me. Some of them knew my story, and I often felt that their compliments were given out of pity. I refused to be pitied, so I had studied hard to prove that I was as good as any of the kids in my class. Since I started the Cullen House program, the staff had encouraged and supported me at every turn. That made me want to do better.

"Okay, getting my GED sounds easier than going to a regular school."

"Carlisle and I have an offer we'd like to make to you. Why don't you think about what you want to do with your future? Then you'll have dinner with Carlisle and me, and we'll discuss it then."

That night, instead of eating in the dining hall as I normally did, I was picked up by Carlisle and Esme. In the van with them were two girls.

"This is Alice and Rosalie. Two of our children."

I had seen them, and a few boys with Carlisle and Esme around the building, plus Carlisle and Esme had mentioned kids on a few occasions. Although I had grown to trust the Cullens, I felt better having the kids in the van with us. We drove out of the city and finally turned off the main road and pulled up to a beautiful mansion.

"Welcome to our home," Esme said when the van came to a stop.

I knew the Cullens owned the building that bore their name, but I had no idea they lived in a place like this. We walked into the house, and I was introduced to the other kids, Jasper, Emmett and Edward.

Dinner was a boisterous affair. I was still shy, but they tried to include me in their conversations. I had never been a part of anything like this before, and it was almost overwhelming - but in a good way. I tried not to cry and kept swallowing the lump in my throat, which was making it difficult for me to eat.

Although Esme had introduced me as Isabella, Alice started calling me Bella, and all the other kids followed her. "Isabella is too formal," she had insisted.

After the others had left to finish homework or watch TV, Esme and Carlisle asked me to step into their office.

"Isabella, as I mentioned earlier, we have an offer to make to you. How would you like to come live with us?"

"Live with you? Why would you want me to live with you when you have a house full of beautiful kids already?" I blurted out without thinking. I blushed and hid behind my hair.

"Don't be embarrassed. We'll explain," Carlisle said.

"We were never fortunate to have kids of our own, so we started adopting. Well, the only one that we legally adopted was Edward. He was the first to enter our lives. His mother was Esme's sister, so when both of his parents died in a car crash, we took him in. After that, Rosalie came, and then Emmett, and finally Alice and Jasper. We always thought of adding one more girl to even the group out, but we hadn't found anyone we thought could fill that space until you."

"Why me?"

"From the first time Esme saw you, she couldn't stop talking about you. There was something about you that drew her to you, and after you had told us your heart wrenching story, she wanted to move you into the house immediately. But we thought it was best if you become comfortable with our presence in your life first. We've seen the way you seek Esme out to ask for advice or to talk over a problem, and we know you are doing well in your sessions. Now that you are ready to move on, we thought it was the right time to make our offer." "What would I have to do?"

"The same thing you would have done in the next phase at the house, but you'll live here with the rest of our kids, and if you want to, you can attend high school with them."

"Do they want me here?" I remembered how much torture I had suffered at the hands of other foster kids and kids of my various foster parents. I didn't want to go through that again.

"We've already discussed it with them—not your personal story, but we've told them we wanted to ask you to come live with us, and they have all agreed. If you want to, just say the word, and you can move in anytime." I was still too cautious to move in immediately, so I had agreed to start school with Alice and the other kids while I thought about their offer, to move in.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

My first day of school was hard. A new school and new kids…again, but the most difficult part was going through the little spiel as the teacher introduced me to the class. The part of my life, I could talk about, was not interesting so I kept it short, similar to a soldier giving his name and dog tag number to the enemy. It helped to have Alice in my gym and home economics classes while Edward was in my biology and lit classes, plus all the Cullen kids insisted I sit with them at lunch.

Alice was bubbly, which made it hard not to like her. In fact, I thought of her as the Disney pixie sprinkling her fiery dust over everyone to make them happier. Emmett was a prankster, but in a good way and Rosalie, Edward and Jasper were more reserved, but were all kind to me from the start.

Days led to weeks. There was no pressure from the kids. None of them asked me about my life before meeting Esme and Carlisle and moving into The Cullen House. From the first day of school, they refused to let me take the bus back to the home. That led to one of them picking me up and taking me back to the home after school. They were all friendly and I felt at ease with them. By the end of the first week, Alice had worked her way under my skin. She become like the sister I always wished for or the invisible friend I had invented to get me through my worst times.

Edward, Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie and Alice, and I became tight knit group. It didn't take long for them to start including me in their after school activities too. At first I was reluctant, but I realized if I were thinking of moving in with their family, I should get to know them better. Emmett played football, so we went to his games. After his games, we went out to eat. I was embarrassed that I had very little money, but I was determined to pay my own way, using what I been saving for my own apartment. I was not given a choice, the kids insisted that Carlisle gave them all an allowance and it was more than enough to cover their expenses. I didn't want to feel like a charity case, but they never treated me like I was a charity case. I gave in. I also reminded myself that I was being given a second chance. Esme and Carlisle wanted to be my foster parents. If I took them up on that offer, I would have all the same privileges as Edward, Alice, Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett. I threw caution to the wind—which was hard at first and didn't get hung up on who paid for what. Football games let to other group activities. Sometimes we went to the movies. For the first time since I went into "the system", I felt like an regular person or what I thought a regular person would feel like. I was a part of a group. Maybe even a soon to be family. At times, I felt I was dreaming. Then as if to remind myself of my life, some nights I'd wake up from a nightmare where Esme and Carlisle had not come to my rescue. I always woke up before anything bad happened, but those bad dreams usually left me shaken. Esme and Carlisle were my guardian angels. Even in my dreams, I subconsciously refused to think of what would have happened without them. As impossible as it seemed, Jasper always appeared to sense when I was upset and he would ask if I wanted to talk about anything. I always told him no, but his concern touched me. After one of those days, I had been melancholy most of the day. After school, instead of taking me back home, Alice had other ideas.

"Bella, do you want to come to the mall with us?" Alice asked.

"I don't need anything at the mall."

"That's not the point of going to the mall," she replied.

"We don't need anything either, but we want to look around the stores." Rosalie said. "Please Bella, it'll be fun. I promise."

It's hard to say no to Alice and when Rosalie joined her in begging me to join them I couldn't refuse. Maybe I didn't want to refuse. I overheard all the girls talking about shopping and makeovers and other activities teenagers do at the mall. Things I had not had an opportunity to do. I realized I wanted to go to the mall and spend hours looking at clothes and trying on stuff and having fun. I wanted to be an average teenager. I would never forget my past, but I could not let it rule the rest of my life.

"Well, if we're only looking, I guess I'll join you."

"Great."

With that we got into Rosalie's red convertible, waved goodbye to the boys and headed to the mall. We went from store to store. Eventually, I joined them in trying on clothes. It was fun. We laughed. We talked about fashion or rather Alice and Rosalie talked and I listened. They had me try on things, they insisted, would look great on me and I was surprised at how right they were. The colors, the shape of the clothes, all made a difference. I kept everything in my head for when I could afford to buy something. After that first trip, we went back almost every week. Soon, they insisted in me joining then in getting a manicure and pedicure—luxuries I would never have thought of on my own. There was no resisting the girls. I was pleasantly surprised that I enjoyed the treatments.

Before I knew it, Halloween was approaching. The school was all abuzz about costumes and parties, but the Cullen kids were excited about an annual fundraiser Esme and Carlisle held for The Cullen Foundation, which supported The Cullen House Charities. I listened as they talked about the previous events they had attended. They explained that Esme went all out with the plans, trying to make each year different from the last.

"Bella, you just have to come," Alice insisted. "Esme usually invites several of the current teenagers in the house and a few of the ones who had lived there before who are making it on their own. There is no way she wouldn't invite you."

To me it sounded like something in a movie. Country and yacht clubs, grand ballrooms and people dressed in the latest fashion wearing fancy masks. Can I fit in? Even if Esme invited me, where would I get a dress and shoes? I put the whole thing in the back of my head and decided to deal with it if the time came. Only, I had to deal with it sooner than I had thought.

Edward was taking me home after school. Before I got my seatbelt on, he asked, "Bella, will you go to the fundraiser with me?"

"What?"

"Do you want to be my date for the fundraiser?"

_I think I'm having a heart attack._ To say I was surprised would be putting it mildly. Edward is drop dead gorgeous. He has a mass of bronze unruly hair, beautiful green eyes, long lashes that any woman would envy, and a great body. Not muscular like Emmett or as lean as Jasper but fit. All the girls in school flocked around him, but I knew for a fact that he wasn't dating any of them. I found it strange that he remained unattached, but it was none of my business. I had my reasons for not dating, so he probably had his own. For the past two months, it had always been the six of us.

"Why would you want to go with me? Tanya, Lauren, and any of your groupies would give anything to go out with you." I tried to keep it light by joking.

"I'm not asking any of them. I'm asking you. Do you want to go?"

"Is this a date, or are we all going as a group?"

"Do you want it to be a date?"

"No. If we're going as a group, then maybe I'll think about it."

"My pride needed that hit for thinking I was irresistible," he joked.

"Sorry, it's not you. You know I don't date."

"I was hoping you'd make an exception for me."

"Edward, I don't date because who would want to go out with me if they knew anything about my personal life?"

"Lots of guys would love to date you, including me."

"Neither you or them know anything about me."

"I know you're a runaway."

"Well, that's easy. Everyone at The Cullen House is a runaway."

"I also know you're beautiful and caring and smart. I don't care about anything else."

Beautiful. Did he say I was beautiful? Despite myself, I glowed. My insides lit up and I expected fireworks to start shooting out of the top of my head. Edward was so sweet that if I let myself, I could fall in love with him, but I knew he was not meant for me. Now he was asking me on a date. Was he asking out of pity? Wait a second, I couldn't date Edward. He was my best friend. He was also Esme's blood relative. This was too complicated.

"People become desperate when they live on the street. What if I had done drugs, or was a thief or was a prostitute?"

"I don't care what you did before you came here. I care about you, the girl who, against all odds, turned her life around."

"I only did that because of Carlisle and Esme." Esme and Carlisle had done so much for me. I would never be able to repay them for the opportunities they had given me.

"Bullshit. You would have found a way to fulfill your dreams. Carlisle and Esme's intervention would only make you realize those dreams faster."

"How can you be so confident, so sure that I don't have lots of skeletons in my closet?"

"I'm good at reading people. I feel as if I've known you longer than a couple of months. You're an unbelievable person who was dealt a shitty hand early in life. Lots of people would have given up. Many people in your situation use their misfortune as a cop out, but you didn't. You persevered."

"Thanks for the offer, but can we keep it as a group outing?" There's no way I could deal with this now. I had never had a family or a boyfriend. Now it looked as if I had finally found a family. How could I date someone in that family? Lately, I had been confused about some of the feelings I started having toward Edward. I had pushed those to the back of my mind, where I put everything I didn't want to acknowledge or was afraid of. Those feelings were different from what I felt when Jasper or Emmett hugged me or held my hand, but I had never had a boyfriend so I had no way to compare the feelings. The quickening of my heart, the sudden breathlessness when I turned and caught him looking at me and wanting to stay in his arms when he gave me a hug. Now this?

"I'll take you anyhow I can get you," he said and gave me a lopsided grin. "Here's the invitation. Be prepared, Esme asked Alice and Rosalie to take you shopping for an outfit after school tomorrow." He finally started the car and we pull out of the parking lot.

I opened the gold envelope and pulled out the invitation. The background was black with golden raised lettering and it was decorated with two elegant golden masks.

_The Cullen Foundation presents a grand fundraiser_

**_The Grand Masquerade and Treasure Hunt_**

**_at the Los Angeles Yacht Club_**

**_October 31_****_at 6 PM_**

_Donation: $150.00 - Masks included_

_Participants, adorned with masks will be given treasure maps to hunt for prizes falling into four categories, Platinum, Bronze, Gold and Silver. Along with prizes from the Treasure Hunt, there will also be a silent auction and numerous consolation prizes._

_With hors d'oeuvres, cocktails and dinner followed by dancing until 11:30pm _

_this will certainly be an evening of grand entertainment._

_Attire: Cocktail_

I waited until I was in my room to press the invitation to my breast and twirled around my room. I had never been this happy in my life. I'm sure this is how Cinderella must have felt while getting ready for the ball but this was happening to me, Isabella Marie Swan. I was going to the ball. Technically it was a Masquerade but it was my ball. Then there was my reaction to Edward asking me on a date—the way my heart had skipped a beat and how I had been extraordinarily pleased when he had called me beautiful. I was still conflicted.

As embarrassing as the subject was, at my next therapy session, I brought this up. My therapist assured me that my feelings were that of a "normal" teenage girl.

"Before our sessions, mentally you were a scared little girl. Now you're ready to leave that battered child behind. Now your mind and your body are playing catch up."

"Will I be normal after the attack?" I ducked my head to hide my blush. I couldn't bring myself to ask what I really wanted to.

"Isabella, as much as I dislike the word, you are normal, but I know what you're asking. No matter what the circumstances, sexual violence is a weapon used by perpetrators to hurt and dominate others—motivated by a need to control, humiliate and harm. It is never a survivor's fault. We have discussed this before. Luckily you were rescued before any harm was done, so you should not have any problems with physical contact. To be on the safe side, I recommend you discuss your fears with any future partners. This way they would be prepared for any unusual reactions, but a considerate lover will be able to allay your fears and make the experience enjoyable. In time, I'd like to think that you'd react to physical intimacy without a second thought."

After that, I didn't feel guilty about my feelings for Edward, but I worried that Esme and Carlisle would not approve of us becoming more than friends. On the other hand, after I had started going to school with them, I'd heard rumors about Rosalie dating Emmett and Alice and Jasper were a couple. I had ignored the rumors, thinking they were sour grapes. Anyway that was their business, and after all, they were not biological siblings or related in any way. I had become aware, Edward and I had started gravitating toward each other but I just assumed it was because we were both single and we had a lot in common. Could Esme and Carlisle have invited me into their home because they thought I would be a match for Edward? I was still reluctant to start thinking of the possibilities of us being more than friends. One I needed to tell him my story. Then I needed to speak to Esme.

I survived shopping for the "perfect gown" with Alice and Rosalie. I bit my lip as I was waxed and plucked to within an inch of my life. On the night of the Masquerade, I put myself in Alice's hands for a makeover in her insanely large bathroom. I didn't even ask her when she bought all the products she needed for me.

"Now you're beautiful," she finally declared after zipping me into my gown. She turned me to the mirror and it took me several minutes before I recognized the girl staring back at me. Once again, I admired the dress. It was a long formal strapless dress. The bodice on the dress fitted, and full A line skirt. The top was covered in an amazing sequin and bead work, which cascade down the skirt in rows. The all over detailing made this it absolutely stunning. Under the skirt I was wearing silver heels—I had convinced Alice that anything over three inches and I would fall on my face. She had listened to me. She had done a fantastic job. It was the makeover of the century. She had been right about the dress and the choice of makeup. Everything down to the borrowed silver accessories were just right.

Alice were wearing a red gown with a burst of feathers starting at the right side and spreading out. Rosalie's gown was jade colored organza with a short flirty skirt. Esme was wearing a beautiful black sheath and Carlisle and the boys were wearing tuxedos. Carlisle had ordered a limo so we all piled in and were whisked off to the yacht club. The guys helped us out of the car. Edward squeezed my hands and kept me close to his side as we walked over the red carpet into the brilliantly lit lobby. Soon we were surrounded by elegantly dressed people some wearing their mask while other carried them in their hands. Everyone sounded excited and happy. We joined up with the other residents of the Cullen house. Esme had arranged for them to obtain clothes at a place which catered to prom and wedding rentals. I also met the past residents of the house. Two of them were in college. One was a doctor, one worked as an artist at an advertising agency and the other had graduated from law school and was working at a non-profit center offering legal service for disadvantaged people. I was able to see for myself the difference The Cullen House made to teenagers like myself. From the way I'm being treated in the Cullen House Charities program, I'm determined to become a social worker and open a home for disadvantaged kids. Not just teenagers, but for all children who were not eligible for adoption or children no one wanted to adopt. There were so many kids who needed guidance and encouragement to empower themselves. If I dedicated myself to this, someday I could emulate Esme and Carlisle but on a smaller scale.

During the treasure hunt, Rosalie found a silver watch which she gave to me. "Here Bella, I don't need another watch and this will go great with your dress," she had said.

The Masquerade was a success. I ate deliciously, sumptuous foods, I danced until my feet hurt and although I was drinking non-alcoholic beverages, I got drunk on the atmosphere. It was a magical night. A night I would remember for the rest of my life.

* * *

><p>Some of the information used for Cullen House is based on Covenant House. I have no personal knowledge of their programs or policies except what I learned from their site. If you're interested to learn more about Covenant House, an internet search will provide more information on their programs and locations.<p>

Research on sexual attack was done on (http)(:)(/www)(.joyfulheartfoundation.)(org/learn/sexual-assault-and-rape)


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I didn't need any more proof that Esme and Carlisle were angels, and that they and The Cullen Foundation had made a difference in countless lives. Yet, seeing the people they had helped reinforced my feelings that they were both extraordinary people. Now, they wanted to open their home to me. The other kids in their home were kind and well-adjusted. As far as I could see, there were no dark secrets lurking anywhere. There was no doubt in my mind that I'd take them up on their offer, but will I fit in? I decided to tell Esme the good news. Before I told anyone, Alice opened up to me. She and Jasper were taking me home, when she suggested we stop for something to eat.

"Bella, I want to tell you my story."

"Alice, you don't have to."

"I want to." Jasper reached out and took her hand.

"I'd always had strange visions. Some of them came true. I started telling my mother about them. My mother begged me not to tell anyone about my visions. She said people wouldn't understand. It was our secret. Then I had a vision of my father being in an accident. I begged her to call him. She refused. I took my father's death hard. I thought it was my fault for, not stopping the accident. After father had died, my mother took me to a mental hospital and had me committed. I spent years there. Then I had a vision of a boy I didn't know. In a place, I had not been before. After that vision, I knew I had to find a way out. I knew it was a vision of my future. There was a kind old custodian at the hospital who had befriended me so I convinced him to help me escape. I told him I had to get to L.A. He told me about The Cullen House and took me to the train station and he gave me money for the train and food. When I got to The Cullen House Jasper wasn't there. While I waited for him, I had sessions with a psychiatrist, who was the first to determine that she was a psychic. After Jasper showed up. She introduced herself to him and they have been inseparable ever since. A few months after Jasper showed up at The Cullen House, Esme and Carlisle invited both of them to come live at their home."

"So you see the future like those people who read cards, tea leaves or crystal balls?" I asked in awe.

"I have visions of the future, but those visions can change as people make different choices."

"Thanks for telling me your story but I'm sure you know I had already decided. To accept Esme and Carlisle's offer."

Alice hugged me tightly. "You'll fit in nicely in our family."

~~~~~Second Chances~~~~~

Over the next few months, the other kids told me their stories.

Jasper had been a military brat. He had been born and had spent his earlier years on a base in Texas. His father was in the Air Force, so he had lived on bases in Alabama, Washington, Hawaii, and he and his mother had travelled to Germany, Italy and England, following his father around the world. His mother died when he was about ten, and his grandparents wanted him to live with them, but he continued living with his father. Everything changed when the war in the Middle East started. His father was sent to the war. He survived several tours of duty before his plane crashed in enemy territory and he was taken as a prisoner of war. He spent years in different prison camps where he was beaten and tortured. After a ceasefire had ended U.S. participation in Vietnam, he was released along with other American POWs. The injuries he had sustained when his plane had crashed along with those inflicted on him at the enemy camps made it difficult for him to continue his career in the Air Force. His father couldn't adjust to civilian life. He became bitter and took to drinking. Jasper found this newfound freedom of civilian life exciting. No military rules like on a base. No curfew because his father was too drunk to monitor his son. He stopped going to school. He did whatever he wanted. Eventually, his father shot himself. Jasper was sent to live with his grandparents in Texas. His grandfather tried to get him to join the service. All the men in his father's family had been in the service going back as far as they knew. Jasper refused. Seeing what military life had done to his father, Jasper had vowed to break the cycle of Hale men entering the service. Tired of butting heads with his grandfather, he ran away from home. He made his way from state to state until he ended up in Los Angeles.

Rosalie was from Rochester, New York where she had lived a charmed life until she had been raped and left to die on the street. Someone found her and took her to the nearest hospital. Her parents had not been able to live with the idea of having a daughter who had been raped. Her mother even insinuated she had somehow done something wrong. Even after she told her parents it had been Royce, the boy she had been engaged to, they refused to let her file a complaint against him. She became distraught and knew she could not live with the censure of her parents or live in the same town where her attackers walked free. After leaving the hospital, she ran away from home. She took the train to New York City. After days on the street, she found out about The Cullen House. She moved in and went through counseling. Looking for a new start, she finally left but made arrangements to check in at The Cullen House in Los Angeles until she got on her feet. Like they did with me, Esme and Carlisle had offered her their protection and opened their home to her. For a while, it had been just her and Edward until Emmett had joined them.

Emmett's father had been an avid hunter who had insisted on taking his son hunting from an early age. One occasion, they had been attacked by a bear. Emmett had needed extensive plastic surgery on his arms and legs followed by physical therapy, to regain full use of one of his legs. After that, his father still insisted on taking him hunting. Tired of the constant fights with his father about hunting and being a man instead of a little boy, he had run away from home. Emmett had planned his escape and had done his research so he knew of the Cullen House and their hotline for runaways. He had called the number, and arrangements had been made to bring him into one of the centers. Months later, he had moved in with the Cullens. He and Rosalie had fallen in love. At first they had kept it a secret from Esme and Carlisle because they were afraid of being separated, but eventually the Cullens found out and gave them their blessings.

I had known the Cullens were special, but hearing the stories of Alice, Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie made me realize that they were more like fairy godparents giving all of us a second chance. And not just us—all the lives they touched by opening The Cullen Houses all over the country taking in homeless kids who were down on their luck. A special few of us got more. They had opened their home to us.

After, I had accepted Esme and Carlie's offer. My few belongings were moved from my little room at The Cullen House to the Cullens' home. Having a loving family made all the difference in my life. I continue counseling, and which helped tremendously. Little by little, I escaped all the guilt I had been walking around with. I now realized that my father's death had not been my fault. My mother's abusive behavior had no reflection on me. The terrible foster homes I had been in had been run by cruel people. I couldn't have changed any of it.

~~~~~Second Chances~~~~~

Eventually, Edward asked me to go on a date again.

"If I do decide to go with you, what would Esme say?"

"Esme will think I'm lucky. She's been hoping I'd meet someone who interested me long before you came into our lives."

I'd seen what a lost love could do to a person, so I was leery of getting involved with anyone. Plus, my circumstances, didn't leave much time to think about dating or having a boyfriend. Now that my life had changed, and I had a new outlook on life, was I ready to take the plunge?

"Let's finish this discussion at the house. Let me tell you my story. Then you can decide if you still want me to be your date."

When we arrived home, I called the others to join us. It would be easy to tell everyone at once. They had all told me their stories, but I couldn't bring myself to tell them mine before. Now I was finally ready.

"Promise not to say anything until I'm finished," I said and looked at each of them, waiting for them to nod their agreement before starting.

"You all know why I came to live here, so I'll go back to how it had all started." I took a deep breath, trying to fortify my courage to start. Then I told them all the details of the darkest times in my life. I looked around, gauging their reaction. I actually felt relieved that this was out in the open.

"Well, you were right. I've changed my mind about you," Edward said.

I was stunned. _Where was the gentle, caring young man I had come to know?_ A sob escaped.

"Edward, why do you have to be an ass?" Rosalie yell.

"Let me finish," Edward said and took my arm.

"Let me go," I screamed trying to free my arm.

"Sorry for the way that came out. I changed my mind because, not knowing the details of your life, I had already been proud of you, but now I admire you much more. To have lived through what you had done and still be so strong is nothing short of amazing."

He pulled me up and hugged me tightly. Then I felt all the Cullen kids around us for a group hug.

"Just say the word, and I'll make Emmett kick Edward's ass," Rosalie whispered.

Thanks to the Cullens, I finally had a stable family. The kids at school think I have it all. Some of the girls even envy me. Personally, I would have given it all back to have had a normal life.

No matter what happened in my new life, my school work took precedence. I studied hard and did all extra credits assignments which were available. Even with missing school while on the streets, I graduated with honors. With my high school diploma in hand, I was headed to college with Edward and my siblings. Would I have finished high school, much less be thinking about going to college if I had not met Carlisle and Esme? Edward is convinced that with or without Esme and Carlisle, I would have fulfilled my dreams. He said their presence in my live only made those dreams come true faster. I'd like to believe he's right. I have no idea what life has in store for me, but I know I have the strength to make it through anything that comes my way.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Would you like some champagne?" the flight attendant asked.

"Yes, thank you."

I took the glass and looked at my neighbors. In the seats around me were Esme, Carlisle, Jasper, Emmett, Edward, Rosalie and Alice. I held up my glass, and they did the same. "Here's to another fantastic adventure," I said with a smile.

I settled into the luxurious seat of the plane, and I thought of how incredible my life had turned out. Me, Isabella Marie Swan, was on my way to Beijing for Fashion Week. My life had not always a bed of roses. In fact, never in my wildest dreams had I thought of becoming a model, an actress or a business woman. I owed everything I had achieved to my fairy godparents, Esme and Carlisle. They had rescued me and had given me a second chance at life. Since then my life had taken on one fantastical turn after another.

One day, Alice asked me to try on one of her designs for a school project—she's majoring in fashion merchandising. Soon I was used as a doll for her designs. I only tolerated it because of Alice. Who could say no to that little minx? She even had the boys and Rosalie trying on her pieces, and sometimes we would put on a fashion show for Esme and Carlisle. Then during junior year, she asked me to step out of my comfort zone.

"Bella, as part of my final, I have to participate in a fashion show. Since most of my samples are in your size, I need you to be one of my models."

"Alice, having you use me as a Barbie doll or dressmaking dummy or doing a photo shoot is one thing; walking on a runway in front of people is something else."

I had outgrown my awkward phase, and my body had gone through a complete metamorphosis, but the thought of all those people watching my every move was disconcerting.

"Most of my samples were designed to fit you, and the rest of the family, so it would be more convenient for all of you to model them than for me to make new samples."

"Rosalie is modelling too?"

"Yes, and I will be on stage, too. I have to model one of my own creations and introduce my line."

I stood there, chewing on my lip, thinking of all the ways this could turn into a disaster. It gave me comfort to know that the rest of the family would be in the show, too. We had always supported each other.

"It's a college show; most of the audience will be students."

"I'm only doing this for you."

Esme insisted on hiring a modelling coach to give us pointers. Tanya taught us how to strut on the runway, and how to make eye contact with a select few people in the crowd. On the day of the show, she and Rosalie spent hours on my hair and makeup. By the time they were done, I couldn't recognize myself. I kept staring at the beautiful stranger in the mirror.

Her designs had been a success and got featured in the fashion section of the Sunday paper, along with a few other students' design. The video was uploaded to YouTube, and Alice became the next hot thing. Soon, we were doing more modelling for her as she prepared her portfolio to be shown at fashion houses and leading department stores. Whenever Alice was invited to do a live show, she would ask us to model her pieces. Soon our faces were all over the city. Alice also had a line of swimsuits and lingerie, which attracted a lot of attention. I was not as tall as most models, but that didn't seem to matter.

Apparently, we made a "very wholesome group." Offers started coming in, and I had to decide between getting my degree and putting school on hold for the opportunity to make a quick buck for my future plans of starting a foundation to help foster children. When I realized how much money I could make as a model, I decided to go for it. I still intended to finish school and start my own non-profit organization, but I would get to my dream faster if I did modelling.

Less than a year later, we had done ads for Gap and Abercrombie & Fitch, and we had been featured in Teen People and Teen Vogue. We became the latest hot commodity. Since then, our careers had taken off. Several reputable agencies offered us contracts, but Esme and Carlisle managed us with an iron fist to ensure we were not exploited. They helped guide us by advising us on which offers we should accept and which were not appropriate for us, and we got to keep all our money instead of paying a commission to the agency. Their lawyer Mr. Jenks helped with the contracts.

I was told that my brown hair and chocolate colored eyes made me look like the girl next door, and both girls and women seem to identify with me. Rosalie was portrayed as the sexy bombshell, and the guys were hot hunks. Alice was often pictured with us when we modelled her designs. Over the past five years, we had travelled to Italy, Paris, and New York, doing runway shows for major designers.

Rosalie and I were not the typical tiny models, and because of my childhood, I refused to go on a diet. We were more voluptuous than most models, which opened the door to swimwear and lingerie modeling. Now I was on my way to Beijing with my family for fashion week. Christian Dior was opening an international flagship store in Beijing's Shin Kong Place, and we had been invited to the grand opening.

Rosalie and Emmett had found their passion in modelling and acting. Of course, Alice was doing what she had always wanted to do. I never let the fame go to my head. I had a goal, and this was just a stepping stone—a way to make my dreams come true. I hadn't opened my own home for disadvantaged kids yet, but I helped sponsor a group home. The home was like a ranch and housed fifty children. The older kids helped take care of the animals to make spending money, but their number one priority was to do well in school. For now, it was mostly for siblings so they wouldn't be separated. I'd hear that it was hard for foster families to take in four or more siblings, so the kids often got sent to different homes. I knew the importance of a family, so I wanted to keep children in need of a foster home together. I was grateful to Esme and Carlisle and Jenks for taking care of all the legal and administrative stuff, but it was time for me to finish my degree and start running the program myself. I also wanted to open more programs like that. I had come a long way from the scarred and scared girl I had been, but few people knew the details of my life. All that was about to change. I planned to write my life story in the hope that it could help someone. I thought about a good opening for the book.

_When life gives you a Second Chance, do you have any choice but to accept? I did. I took that chance and this is where it brought me, so no matter what life throws at you, keep believing. Keep looking for the light at the end of the tunnel, and the rainbow after the rain. These sayings may all sound like clichés, but all of them proved to be true in my life._ As I wrote those words, I had an epiphany. I'm living a Cinderella story and Edward is my Prince Charming.

~~~~~Second Chances~~~~~

Now I was about to take another chance. I was ready to take my relationship with Edward to the next level. I was going to "make him the happiest man in the universe". That night, before we went to dinner, I took Edward aside and whispered so no one else could hear, "yes."

His face lit up. "I'm ecstatic, but why now?"

I stared into his eyes and told him what was in my heart. "I did a lot of thinking on the flight. In fact, I relived my live, and I don't want to waste any more time. I want to spend the rest of my life by your side."

"You've made me the happiest man alive."

"Come."

Before I could answer or ask him where we were going, he dragged me to his room and pulled me into a tight embrace. Then he kissed me. It was the most passionate kiss we had shared. Next thing I knew, he was rummaging in his laptop bag and produced the most beautiful diamond ring I had ever seen. He placed it on my finger and kissed it. I cried as he recited a poem to me.

_"__If I were to describe my love for you with the sands of the earth, _

_the waters of the seas or the forces of the wind, it will still fall a long way short_

_If I had the ability to walk on water, mounted wings to fly in the sky, _

_or the ability to live in this world forever; _

_I would trade it all just to care for you, to be with you, _

_to hold you in my arms, to love you with all my being forever!"_

"Edward, that was beautiful."

"I know, but I can't take credit for it. I found it on the internet."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

We hugged and kissed again. When we finally made it to the dining room. I showed off my ring. Carlisle ordered champagne and we had a boisterous celebration. I had travelled to the other end of the earth for this moment, but it was just right. I couldn't have picked a better time to say yes. I had finally laid all my ghosts to rest.

THE END

* * *

><p>AN

Sorry I took so long to finish this story but RL is trying to kick me in the butt. If you've read any of my stories, you know I usually write sexy stories, but I wanted to try my hand at something else. I hope you enjoyed reading this rags to riches story.

Unstoppable love – poem by Amazuo Obioha Ugboaja, Nigeria (www.)(voicesnet.)(org/displayonepoem.)(aspx?poemid=116472)


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